Majummed Prologue 2: Catalyst
by Side Quest Publications
Summary: Prologue the Second. Time skip a couple of years after the particle accelerator explosion, and Leonard Snart has mostly settled in as a member of the Legends. He still finds it uncomfortable every time someone remind him of the good he has done, but that doesn't stop him from jumping in head-first now and again to protect the team... with unpredictable consequences.
1. Night of the Hawk

**The second "prologue" in the Majummed storyverse (the first being the short fic Beginning of a Legend), in which we revisit the fight at Harmony Falls, and certain members of the team discover unexpected consequences.**

 **This chapter takes place during Legends S1E8 Night of the Hawk... which I naturally had to rewatch (courtesy of Netflix) to make sure I had certain details right.**

 **All characters copyright DC, CW, etc.**

* * *

 _Harmony Falls, Oregon, circa 1958_

"Oh, boy," Martin said.

Leonard agreed with the sentiment. "Just when you think you've seen everything," he replied.

The bird-thing leapt for the two men, but Leonard quickly knocked it out with a blast from his cold gun.

A second creature dove at them. A second blast of ice sent it flying backwards.

"Guess those missing kids are no longer missing," Leonard added.

 _But what has Savage done to them?_

And just how many people had that lunatic changed? Judging from the screams in the distance, they had a lot more than four missing kids to worry about.

A growl came from the shadows ahead, and a third creature emerged. A sour feeling built in the pit of Leonard's stomach; even the previous two creatures couldn't prepare him for this new horror.

"Oh, my God," Martin said. He stared at the creature advancing on them. "It's Jefferson."

Leonard eyed the creature warily. This _thing_ was the kid?

"Jefferson," Martin said, "it's... _us_!"

The creature hesitated and looked back and forth between the two men.

 _Is he even still in there?_ Leonard wondered. Maybe Jefferson had some humanity left; maybe he recognized them.

Or maybe he would rip them apart like the other creatures had tried to do to the girl.

The bird-thing snarled, spread its wings, and lunged for the two men.

Leonard shoved Martin out of the way, pushing the older man to the floor.

The creature turned to follow Martin's fall. Leonard charged up his cold gun, drawing the creature's attention back, and aimed. "Jax, don't make me do this!"

Once again, the creature hesitated. Because of the potential threat, or because Jefferson recognized him?

Leonard knew there was no way to be certain in time. But for the second time since this mission had begun, his survival instincts completely failed him. He kept the gun trained on the creature, hoping against all odds that he could keep it occupied long enough for Martin to get away, but if it came to saving his own life...?

He didn't believe he could pull the trigger.

A screech from behind nearly froze his blood to ice. Leonard turned his head to check the other creatures' location, noting with a detached sense of dread that one of them had vanished, and looked quickly back again, but too late. The bird-thing that had once been Jefferson swung one taloned hand his way, sending the thief reeling to the floor.

Pain exploded down his left arm as he landed. He squeezed his eyes shut against as the two creatures darted forward with an unnatural speed to claim their prey.

Instinct forced his eyes back open. Instinct and memory. He fumbled for the cold gun with his good arm and shot upwards, sending a blast of ice that punched a hole in the pipe over his head. Steam rushed out, barely cool enough thanks to the cold gun to miss cooking him alive.

He heard the bird monsters shrieking, but the sounds were muffled by the roar of the steam and he couldn't see which direction they approached from.

Something grabbed his injured arm, blinding him with white-hot pain. He had no awareness of being hauled limply to his feet and around the corner until after he pulled free of Martin's grasp to collapse against the wall.

His throat was raw, he couldn't catch his breath, and every inch of his left arm burned where the creature had struck him. He gingerly prodded his hurt shoulder and stared at the blood coating his fingertips.

Martin stopped further down the tunnel and ran back. "That won't distract them for long," he urged. "We need to get moving. We need the rest of the team."

Leonard nodded. "Right..." he managed to say between gasps, "behind you."

Martin eyed him for a moment, then reached for his good arm.

Leonard shrank away before the older man could touch him.

Martin hesitated for one second longer, then continued the motion. But he bent over so that he reached instead for the cold gun that Leonard had dropped.

Leonard accepted the weapon back and the pair continued down the tunnel. They moved much too slowly for the thief's liking, but every careful step jostled his arm and sent fresh waves of pain through his entire body. And Martin refused to leave his side.

"I could've shot you when you grabbed me," Leonard grumbled.

"They could've killed you if I hadn't," Martin snapped. His tone silenced further protests.

Finally, _finally_ , the pain eased up enough that Leonard could speed up to a natural pace, though running was still beyond him. The maintenance tunnel came to an end and screams sounded from the hospital ahead, keeping his every nerve on edge.

He looked back and forth, watching, alert for any movement as they walked.

Despite his care, the creature that had once been Jefferson still managed to surprise him. When Leonard jerked his head in one direction, talons swung down onto the gun from the other, forcing him to drop it before he could injure himself further. The creature slashed at the two men, driving them slowly backwards.

The thief hadn't had the opportunity to examine the adjoining rooms for weapons, but he remembered the layout of this wing all too well and he knew that they would find no escape behind them.

Sara darted out from the next room and swung her staff down onto the creature's back, sending the thing to the floor with a single blow and an anticlimactic _thump_.

This time, the thing that had been Jefferson lay still.

"It's time to go," Sara said.

"Not without Jefferson," Martin insisted. "Or whatever's left of him."

—MAJUMMED: CATALYST—

 _Thank god for dark clothing_ , Leonard thought as he wrapped another bandage around his arm. The scratches had stopped bleeding last night, and most of the blood had dried to invisibility against the fabric before it had become too obvious. Moving his arm produced only a small fraction of the pain it had last night, though he wouldn't be much use in a brawl for a few days. If anyone else had realized that he'd been injured, nobody had seen fit to mention. And if they _hadn't_ realized, then he had no desire to enlighten them.

But the wounds were raw to the touch and needed continued protection and treatment. He knew he'd need to visit the medical bay soon to have his arm checked, at least to be sure the scratches wouldn't become more than a nuisance. All Gideon provided for him in his room were the bandages and minor salves, though he suspected she was capable of far more in a true emergency. There must be some provision, after all, for when it was unwise to move the injured.

But therein lay the problem. Jefferson's condition _was_ a true emergency, one that had taken up Martin's every waking moment. Leonard's arm was a mere annoyance and could easily wait until the medical bay was empty.

And though Gideon grumbled about needing to dispose of last night's outfit in secret, and though she was entirely too cheerful each time she critiqued his efforts to recover in solitude, to her credit she had not once ordered him to the medical bay. She preferred instead to drop hints that Leonard patiently ignored, until a few minutes ago when she suggested he look in on Martin and Jefferson.

The trap couldn't have been more obvious, but he suspected that if he didn't comply the next step would be an unwanted guest in the form of Captain Hunter armed with whichever sedative they'd cooked up lately; most of the drugs Gideon supplied had little effect on Leonard in safe doses, but she'd focused a considerable amount of time treating both his panic attacks and his temporal illness and was bound to have developed something that could simply knock him out.

Leonard checked the bandage once more and decided it was tight enough without restricting his movement completely. Satisfied that it wouldn't unwind, he put his shirt back on and sought out the medical bay.

Rip glanced up at his arrival, his eyes on Leonard's injured left arm just a second or two longer than strictly necessary, before he looked back down at the creature laying on the bed.

"Any progress?" Leonard asked.

"Gideon was able to help me devise a gene therapy," Martin replied, "that will hopefully restore Jefferson and those at the asylum to their former selves. If genome bonding occurs, we should know right away."

Leonard nodded, following the explanation with far more ease than he'd ever let on. But he rolled his eyes at the professor's preferred phrasing, just in case.

"Of course, we would never have had the slightest chance of saving him were it not for you," Martin continued.

Leonard looked up, startled, to find Martin staring at him. He took a small step back and tried not to squirm under that gaze. "Let's not get sentimental," he protested. "Another minute, and things might have gone down very differently." Differently _how_ , he could only guess. Though judging from the way Rip looked at his injured arm again, the captain might have made the same guess.

"Despite your bravado, Mr. Snart," Martin replied, "the actions I witnessed last night were nothing short of heroic."

The monitor beeped, distracting Martin from whatever else he planned to say. The three men watched as Jefferson's features smoothed out and slowly returned to normal.

"It's working," Rip said.

Leonard let out a sigh. "He's all right, then?"

"It looks like Mr. Jackson will make a full recovery," Gideon announced. "He'll be back to normal after a few hours' sleep."

"Excellent!" Rip said. "Martin, if you would...?"

"What?" Martin replied, the grin never leaving his face. "Would what? Oh! Of course, the local boys. They'll need treating, as well. Prepare another batch, Gideon!"

"The new batch is already completed," Gideon said, "and waiting among your supplies."

"I don't think I've ever seen him smile so much," Rip said after Martin was long out of earshot.

"Not even when he joined the crew," Leonard agreed. He turned toward the door. "I guess we'd better let Jax sleep it off, then—"

"Not so fast," Rip said.

The door slid shut in front of Leonard before he took more than two steps. He sighed. "You know, as predictable as you are, this habit of yours is starting to get on my nerves."

"I really don't give a damn," Rip replied. "Let me see it."

Leonard put on his best "innocent" expression and turned around to face the captain. "You don't honestly think I had time to _steal_ with everything that was going down? You must have more confidence in my skills than I have."

"To hell with whatever you stole!" Rip snapped. "You know bloody well what I want. Now show me your arm."

"Just because you don't trust me," Leonard growled, "doesn't mean you need—"

"I'm going to have to stop you right there." Rip sighed and shook his head. "Because that? The reason you don't want to show me? That's exactly why I _need_ to see it. You find it so hard to trust _your team_ that you would rather go untreated than risk letting anyone think you a liability, or vulnerable. But without that help, you may find yourself exactly as vulnerable as you fear. And no matter what aid Gideon provided in your quarters, I cannot accurately assess your condition or a suitable treatment if I am not allowed to examine your injuries."

Leonard continued to glare at the captain. There was still a trap here, but what? What Rip had said made entirely too much sense to simply dismiss out of hand. "And I suppose I'm going to be locked in here if I don't comply?" he growled. That had to be it; it wouldn't be the first time the captain had tried something like that.

But Rip shook his head. "No, Mr. Snart. No. If I believed that you were a danger to the team, then I would not hesitate to do exactly that. But right now the only person you're endangering is _yourself_. And I'll not risk exacerbating your injuries by forcing you to accept treatment if you truly don't want it." He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I would like nothing better than to know that you don't need anyone's help. To see proof that I am worrying over nothing. But I am human, and I am your captain. And I am responsible for your well-being for as long as you remain with my crew. I trust that you are intelligent enough to know how to look out for yourself and for the team. If you are unwilling to trust the team to look out for you in turn, then go right ahead and walk out that door and I will not speak of this again."

 _Trust_? That's what this was about? _That's_ how Rip planned to trap him? Leonard almost laughed at the idea. _What a ridiculous plan. If Lewis managed to teach me one thing, it's that you can't trust anyone._

Screw it.

"Let's get this over with." Leonard sat down on one of the far beds, away from the sleeping Jefferson, and struggled to pull his shirt free. "You, uh, need to examine me up close, or are you getting enough of an eyeful from over there?"

"I wasn't certain if you'd appreciate any help with the shirt," Rip replied. He waited until the thief was settled before approaching. "Hmm." He felt along the edges of the bandage. "No discoloration. Temperature's a little concerning, but you've always run a bit cool. Gideon?"

"The site of the wound is within his normal temperature range," Gideon replied. "Circulation is normal."

"Bandages are tighter than I'm comfortable with," Rip continued. He shoved two fingers under the uppermost layer at Leonard's shoulder and tugged.

Leonard stifled a yelp as it felt like the captain's fingers dug into his raw skin. He clutched the sides of the bed to force himself to hold still. Another tug further down, and he could not stop the groan as easily. His grip tightened until he started to lose the feeling in his fingers.

Rip prodded at the bandages for another fifty-two seconds before he was satisfied. "Well, I won't torture you further by making you redo it," he finally said.

"Gee," Leonard managed to gasp, " _thanks_." He released the bed, and feeling rushed back into his fingers with a sensation of needles jabbing into his skin.

"If Gideon says your circulation is normal," Rip continued, "then you should be fine. Not bad for doing it one-handed, though; if I didn't know any better, I'd think you _had_ persuaded someone to help you."

"Field surgery is difficult under the best of circumstances," Gideon said, "but Mr. Snart is adept at it."

Rip nodded. "If you could show me his injuries?"

A light shined down on Leonard's injured arm, producing a hologram that showed the scratches under the bandages. The same display appeared on the nearest monitor.

A hiss escaped from between Rip's teeth.

Leonard glanced up at the monitor. "Another inch higher and I'd look like Peggy Sue."

"Or dead," Rip muttered. "This is quite a bit deeper than was Miss Seaver's. The wound is clean?"

"Not entirely, no," Gideon admitted. "The salves I provided have been keeping the wound protected against infection, but I'm afraid some Nth metal particles have entered his bloodstream. They're too small for my systems to remove."

"Nth metal?" Leonard echoed. "You mean like the meteor that changed Jax?" His voice dropped to nearly a whisper as he tried to keep it under control. "Or like in Peggy Sue's cuts—"

"The fragments in Miss Seaver's wounds were too large to enter her bloodstream," Gideon corrected. " _And_ she received immediate treatment to clear them out."

Rip's eyes went wide at Gideon's tone. "How long has she been _mothering_ you?" he asked.

"Since day one," Leonard replied. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to turn into one of those... things?" This time he could not hide the tremor in his voice.

"Perhaps the genome therapy you and Martin devised," Rip suggested. "Only as a precaution, of course."

"That would not be wise," Gideon said. "The genome therapy worked on Mr. Jackson in part by discharging the Nth metal that had mutated him. I'm afraid if we used it on Mr. Snart at this stage it would produce the opposite effect, and without a means to focus the charge there would be no predicting what that would do to him."

"What do you suggest?" Rip asked.

"Merely that Mr. Snart relaxes for a while," Gideon said. "Remain within the Waverider's shields and keep his stress levels to an absolute minimum."

 _Relax?_ Leonard thought. _They drop that kind of bombshell on me and expect me to_ relax _?_

The silence that followed this thought was deafening.

 _Oh, shit, did I say that out loud?_

Leonard's eyes darted around the medical bay as he tried to look everywhere except at Rip.

 _No... no, he's still talking. I think. Spontaneous deafness must be one of the side effects of time travel._ Never mind that the Waverider hadn't moved for a couple of days now.

"Mr. Snart?"

He risked a look at the captain, then looked quickly away when he saw the pity in the other man's eyes.

 _Shit._

"This won't turn you into a monster, Mr. Snart," Rip said quietly. "I promise."

"How can you be sure?" Leonard asked. "If Gideon can't even predict what would happen, then how can you make a promise like that?"

"Because the team won't let that happen," Rip replied. " _I_ won't let that happen."

"But if it does—" Leonard protested.

"Then we can use the genome therapy as a backup plan," Rip said. "Isn't that correct, Gideon?"

"Absolutely correct," Gideon added. "But given your current condition it will not be necessary. Once Professor Stein has finished his task and the rest of the team is back on board, we can enter the temporal zone to wait out your recovery. Without a catalyst to charge up the particles, your own immune system will break them down and be rid of them within 48 hours. There will be no further need for treatment."

"So... as Gideon ordered," Rip said. " _Relax_. You were right all along; you didn't need our help. There was nothing to worry about after all. You can take a nap, explore the ship, whatever you like. Just take it easy for the next couple of days, that's all."

"I might like to read a little," Leonard admitted.

"Gideon can show you the library. One of the lovely things about being on a time ship is that I have plenty of material to choose from. You might even be tempted to steal a few selections."

Leonard snickered. "Um... can I put my shirt back on now?"

"Can you—oh!" Rip's face turned bright red. "Sorry, yes. Of... of course."

—MAJUMMED: CATALYST—

Rip hovered over the monitors in his office as he continued to watch each of the members of his crew.

Martin had finished administering the genome therapy to Vandal Savage's victims and was on his way back to the ship. His partner had long since woken and, in a moment of restless boredom, had concealed himself in the Waverider's "garage" for a few hours before driving out to Harmony Falls in a brand-new car.

Sara, predictably, he found lurking about in the asylum on the hunt for her pretty nurse.

And Kendra and Ray were busy packing up the last of the supplies they'd left in their temporary home.

That only left Leonard. Rip easily located the thief within the library as expected. He was not digging through the rarer selections as Rip had feared, preferring instead to rely on Gideon's digital scans to idly browse the contents. Though with Leonard's eye for value, that shouldn't have been a surprise; even with the Time Masters' technology the thief would not risk damaging the oldest tomes by handling them carelessly when there were other ways to entertain himself.

No, the real surprise was that he was taking it easy, exactly as ordered.

Though perhaps that shouldn't have been a surprise, either. "It's odd," Rip mused. "But with all the dangers we've faced, the dangers _he's_ faced before I put the crew together—hell, even with his panic disorder—and I believe that is the first time that I have ever seen him truly frightened."

* * *

 **And there you have another step on the road to the Earth One version of Majummed. (You'll find the Earth Two version as the primary villain in Alternate Universe.)  
Next I'll need to rewatch episode Left Behind to make sure I have certain details, dialogue, etc correct in the next chapter... as well as get to writing various other fics that don't require anything episode-centric.  
Feel free to check out the character's bio on my deviantArt account (SideQuestPubs) in the meantime!**

 **Linked fics:  
** **"most of the drugs Gideon supplied had little effect on Leonard in safe doses": Alluded to in quite a few of my fics, even ones that are not directly linked to the Majummed story-verse. But the _reason_ for this bit of headcanon is specific to this particular 'verse.  
** **"treating both his panic attacks and his temporal illness": Panic attacks are also frequently mentioned in my fics (as well as those written by quite a few other Len-centric fanficcers). The temporal illness is technically specific to my Flash Sideways 'verse as my version of Len is sensitive to the existence of other timelines, but it also applies to the side effects of time travel itself.  
** **"locked in here wouldn't be the first time": Flash Sideways main fic chapter 1. Though to be fair, Len hadn't actually tried the door at the time, so he'd only _guessed_ (correctly) that it had been locked.  
** **Gideon "mothering" Len since "day one": the mature-rated "Confessions" fic, chapter 4. Len suspected exhaustion (temporal illness) had made him go loopy.**


	2. Left Behind

**In which Len discovers that relaxing for a couple of days just isn't on the agenda.**

 **This chapter takes place at the end of Legends S1E8 Night of the Hawk and during most of S1E9 Left Behind.**

 **All characters copyright DC, CW, etc.**

* * *

Leonard soon grew restless and gave up on reading. He found it hard to relax under the best of circumstances, and despite Rip's reassurance, he was still shaken by the recent events.

What he needed was a change of scenery; as much as the idea of having free reign in Rip's private library appealed to him, waiting out his recovery in there, even doing so willingly to stave off boredom, felt too much like confinement. And Leonard had never done well in confinement.

But there was Gideon's order. _Remain within the Waverider's shields._ That, and the suggestion to wait out his recovery in the temporal zone.

It hadn't been enough to advise him to relax, he'd been all but _forbidden_ to leave the ship until the particles were out of his system. The implications of that order betrayed Rip's promise for the lie it had been.

He wandered around the ship, without a single care for where his feet carried him, until he found himself back on the Waverider's deck and gazed out at the woods beyond.

He took a deep breath. If he closed his eyes he could almost smell the pine on the breeze...

He opened one eye. "I thought you couldn't read our thoughts?" he drawled.

"I didn't need to," Gideon replied. "According to my databanks, humans of your era commonly use the pine scent to alleviate anxiety. Given your predisposition to a panic disorder, I thought simply opening the vents to allow a natural breeze might aid in your recovery."

"It helps a little," Leonard admitted. "Though I notice you didn't _deny_ trying to sneak a peek."

But Gideon had fallen silent.

Leonard shook his head and settled in by the window in front of the captain's chair. He glanced at the book in his hands, but he wasn't ready to open it up again just yet and he tossed it on the ledge.

Besides, the window ledge wasn't exactly conducive to getting himself lost in another book; aesthetically it was almost perfect, but his arm was still sore and the room wasn't designed for the kind of physical comfort the activity demanded.

Footsteps sounded behind him before he could change his mind. He turned away from the window to see Jefferson approaching.

"Well, look who's up and around," Leonard said.

"Mmm, yeah," Jefferson groaned. He wandered the deck for a moment before stopping in front of the thief. "I guess I owe you an apology. Grey told me about what happened back at the asylum. You had the chance to kill me, and... you didn't."

Leonard turned away until he could see the woods in the corner of his eyes, until he could pretend he didn't see the look in the kid's eyes. _In... hold for three... out…._

"After last night," Jefferson continued, "I know enough about being a monster to know that you're not one."

Leonard rolled his eyes. What was it with these "heroes" and their dramatics? Couldn't they ever talk like normal people? The thief liked to put on a show now and then, but even on his worst days he knew it for an act; the heroes, on the other hand, always seemed to buy into their own games. " _Stop,_ I'm getting misty-eyed."

"I just want you to know... about what happened with Rory?" Jefferson said. "I get it. You were protecting us."

Leonard looked up, startled, to meet Jefferson's gaze.

"It doesn't make you a murderer, it makes you a part of this team."

"Jefferson, you should be resting!" Martin said.

Leonard let out a small breath. _Finally_. Always the drama with these people.

And Gideon maintained her silence, which meant she didn't find Jefferson's nonsense—or maybe it was Rip who'd put him up to it— _at all_ detrimental to his or the kid's recovery.

"Aw, man, I'm... I'm _done_ laying around!" Jefferson protested. "I just want to get the hell out of Mayberry."

"Agreed," Leonard said. "We're just waiting on Sara and the two lovebirds to get back. Seems they've taken quite a _shine_ to 1958."

An explosion nearly threw them off of their feet, and the three rushed for the nearest walls to brace themselves.

"What on earth?" Martin said.

Rip stumbled his way to the central console. "Gideon?"

Leonard pushed himself off of the wall and joined the captain. The monitor displayed a familiar suit of armor brandishing a laser rifle.

"Not _this_ guy again," the thief snarled.

Alarms blared as the bounty hunter continued to fire.

"Captain," Gideon said, "Chronos has breached the starboard hatch."

"How is that possible?" Martin shouted.

"Clearly he's received some new toys from our Time Master friends," Rip said, "since our last encounter. Gideon! Seal the bulkheads from here until—"

A laser beam knocked the captain to the floor.

Leonard fired his cold gun at the bounty hunter, distracting him from the unarmed Jefferson and Martin while Rip regained his feet and fired his laser pistol.

Leonard fired again. _Will you two hurry up and merge already?_ They'd all seen Chronos fight once before; two against one was _not_ good odds in the team's favor.

"Grey, come on!" Jefferson yelled. "Let's do this!"

"If we merge on the Waverider," Martin insisted, "we could destroy the entire ship!"

 _Like Chronos isn't doing that already?_

"Um, are you not paying attention to what Chronos is doing?" Jefferson replied.

Chronos took aim at the kid. Leonard jumped from cover, and Chronos turned to fire at the thief. Leonard darted back, near enough to feel the heat from the laser blast.

"Fall back!" Rip ordered. "Get to the jump ship!"

Leonard kept his gun trained on the bounty hunter until he could see Jefferson and Martin make their escape, then he turned and ran down the corridor after them.

"Hey, come on!" Jefferson yelled, far ahead of their group.

"You sure it was a good idea leaving the _Terminator_ on the bridge?" Leonard snarled.

"Gideon has lockdown protocols," Rip said, "which—"

"Have been overridden, Captain," Gideon replied. "Chronos is utilizing superior Time Master technology. I cannot countermand his orders."

The ship rumbled beneath them.

"He's time jumping the ship," Rip said.

 _Thank you, captain obvious._ "The ladies will be left in 1958," Leonard protested.

"What about Ray?" Jefferson asked.

"Like I said!"

"Let's go!" Rip called. He brandished his pistol and raced back towards the bridge. "We have to stop him!"

Leonard was right behind him, while the dynamic duo panted along in the back.

Rip groaned and braced himself against wall as the Waverider continued to rock under their feet. He held up his pistol. "Gideon! Open the doors on my mark." He looked back at Martin as the older man struggled to keep up. "Get to the jump ship and escape."

"We are not abandoning you!" Martin protested.

"No," Rip said, "you are obeying a direct order from your captain!"

Martin and Jefferson exchanged a glance, then, with a nod, ran back the way they had come.

Leonard watched until they were out of sight, and gave Rip a nod.

"Now, Gideon," Rip muttered.

The door slid open, and Leonard and Rip ran for the nearest piece of cover and began firing at the bounty hunter.

The two continued to circle the room, searching for new angles to strike at Chronos and diving for cover when he shot back. Their luck had only lasted this long because the bounty hunter had waited until morning to strike; the cold gun had had plenty of time to recharge. But there was no telling how much the Time Masters had upgraded his weapons, how long he could keep up the battle.

A laser beam struck Leonard in the right shoulder, in the same spot the warlord had shot him in the necropolis months ago. The cold gun fell from nerveless fingers, and the thief was thrown to the ground with a force that felt like being kicked in the chest by a mule.

"Mr. Snart!" Rip called. "Are you—" a grunt as Chronos fired at the captain again. "Are you all right?"

Leonard's wheezing was loud in own his ears, loud enough he imagined the sound should have been answer enough. He fumbled with his left arm for the cold gun, but a metal booted foot entered his vision and kicked it away before stepping on his left knee.

And then... _burning_ , five point two centimeters below the kneecap, in the same spot Mick had shot him well over a decade ago during one of their many fallings-out. Leonard writhed as the sensation became one endless stream of pain, but he couldn't get enough oxygen even to scream. His vision turned grey and then, eventually, mercifully black.

—MAJUMMED: CATALYST—

Leonard's instinct for danger forced him awake all at once, and he found himself in one of the most uncomfortable of sleeping positions: shackled to a post that only just reached his waist. He pulled at the shackles, but they were tighter than anything from his era and he couldn't identify so much as a lock to pick.

Footsteps approached before he could contort himself to give the shackles a more thorough examination. The thief jerked his head around to spot Chronos striding his way.

Leonard yanked at the shackles a few more times, and cringed against the wall as the bounty hunter walked past.

Chronos simply ignored him.

"Uh... hello?" he finally made himself say.

"A UFO sighting in 1960 has created a time anomaly," Chronos said. "It looks like your friends survived."

"And what would they be doing in 1960?" Leonard asked.

But Chronos had gone back to ignoring him.

The silence dragged on before Leonard sighed. Normally being ignored meant being safe, but that was obviously not the case here. "So, uh... what's so special about me?" he asked. "I mean, aside from my sparkling personality." His gaze darted around the corridor as he examined everything in reach. "Back on the Waverider, you could've taken your boy, Rip. But you took me, instead. Why?"

Chronos remained silent.

"Hey, if you're gonna kill me, you could at _least_ tell me what's going on."

"You should've figured it out by now," Chronos replied. He removed his helmet and walked forward to crouch in front of the thief. "After all, I am supposed to be the dumb one."

Leonard stared at the figure before him, but try as he might, he couldn't persuade himself that his partner—his _friend_ —was a figment of his imagination. "How?"

Chronos— _Mick!_ —continued to gaze back at him with the calm expression he'd only ever worn when watching a blaze.

"I think I deserve to know what the _hell_ is going on here!" Leonard growled.

"You deserve nothing," Mick said.

"Says the man who _sold_ us out to the _pirates_!" Leonard spat. Some small part of his mind noticed the terrible irony that it was now Mick, and Mick alone, who was keeping his cool. "When I dropped you off in that forest, I _meant_ to kill you. That _was_ the plan."

"You should've stuck with the plan," Mick replied, "and done me a favor."

"I may not have trusted you on the ship with the team," Leonard said, "but I always, _always_ was coming back for you!"

"Seems like one of us lost track of time," Mick said.

"Well, how long did you—"

"By the time they found me," Mick roared, with a rage that was all the more terrifying after his earlier calm, "I'd nearly lost my mind! I was so weak, I was strangling _rats_ to survive."

 _What?_ But they were on a _time machine_. Leonard couldn't have failed to retrieve him... and for how long?

"When _who_ found you?"

Mick glanced away, the first sign of fear he'd offered since abducting the thief. "The Time Masters," he replied. He stood up and walked back to the center of the bridge. "They took me to a place called the Vanishing Point. Time doesn't exist there the way it does on Earth. I've spent lifetimes being restored by them, training by them, fighting by them... being reborn."

 _Lifetimes... oh, my friend, what have they_ done _to you?_ Leonard grimaced. _What have_ I _done to you?_ "And, uh, when exactly did your new friends give you the, uh, lobotomy?"

Mick walked around the center console and stood over the thief. "You think I was hunting you and your friends because the Time Masters made me?" he asked. "They barely had to ask." He returned to the central console.

"Look, if you're gonna kill me," Leonard said, "just do it already."

"I'm not gonna kill you," Mick said.

Leonard couldn't even pretend to find that reassuring.

"I'm gonna take a trip back to Central City and visit your baby sister."

Leonard stared in horror as Lisa's face appeared on several of the monitors.

"The beautiful thing about time travel," Mick continued, "is I get to kill her more than once." He turned around to stare down at the thief. "I can kill Lisa in front of you, go back in time, kill her in front of you again and again and again."

Leonard yanked at the shackles once more, but it was no use. He slumped against the wall, his fight gone.

"Sir," a male voice said over the speakers, "several anomalies in the timeline suggest that the Waverider has touched down in Nanda Parbat."

"Chart a course," Mick ordered. "I used to think the most beautiful thing on Earth was fire. Now I know it's vengeance."

Leonard choked back a sob.

Mick didn't even spare him a glance.

Probably just as well. For if the arsonist realized that the tears dripping down Leonard's face were real, that even the _threat_ to his baby sister had been enough to well and truly break him, well...

The thief feared to add more fuel to _that_ particular fire. So he sat there and tried to keep quiet as he wept, for Lisa, for his friends on the Waverider... and for Mick.

* * *

 **Linked fics:  
The injury to Len's knee courtesy of a (yet to be written/posted) scene in the Flash Sideways prequel What Could Have Been. The previous injury to his (right) shoulder due to the fight in the ficlet Necropolis.  
Both included because "You should've figured it out by now"... um, _why_ exactly should he have figured out? I mean, besides the part of about Chronos kidnapping Len and nobody else (which was, of course, the very thing that Len found confusing), ****what clues would have reasonably allowed our favorite thief to realize that Mick and Chronos were one and the same? Did I miss something from previous encounters with the bounty hunter? So in order to add clues of my own, I alluded to those events in the sense of having Chronos deliberately strike areas that nobody outside of the team should realize are old injuries and thus more vulnerable than they might be on anyone else.**


End file.
